The Final Battlefield, The Trojan Horse
by Myrradin
Summary: Harry was always a slytherin, was always powerful, and was fooling everyone until the final battle... (short preview of a possible fic)


**Disclamer: **I do not own anything.. err… I mean I don't own the Harry Potter Universe or any titles thereto. I apoligise for any infringement on the copyrights held by miss J. K. Rowling, Scholastic, Warner Brothers, and any of the other geniouses who make millions off of small children and adults. But in comparison to those millions I really do own nothing, and it would really not be worth the legal fees.

  
**Authors Notes: **I always tend to get little snippets of stories that I really want to write, scenes and whatnot… this is a monologue I want to have harry give to someone.. perhaps the ministry, voldemort, or Dumbledore. Or maybe at the final battle he frezes the three sides and makes them listen. I don't know I haven't written the surrounding story… but let me know if you want me to. Probably wont start it now… (working on the doubledged sword and all) but if I get any interest. Otherwise yah, just thought I'd share. 

~~^~@ Myrra @~^~~

"No you don't understand.  The Slytherin forte, their survival instinct, is to see the pawns on the table, the characters in the play, and don the appropriate costume, play along until you can usurp.  What separates Slytherins is their ability to see that it's all a game, an enormous orchestration.  They realise their part on the sidelines and  Slytherins don their masks to rise up and become the directors, the authors, the conductors, the puppeteers while the Gryffindors blindly play the lead, the knights, and the pawns, the Ravenclaws provide the backdrop, tally the points, and write it down for history while  the Hufflepuffs are the stage hands, the pieces themselves, the forgotten.  But the Slytherins, they are the only ones to see the whole picture.  I changed the rules.  I knew the plot, realized the characters, and donned a perfect Gryffindor persona.  I allowed my 'strings' to be pulled for a while to lull the directors and the leaders into a sense of security.  Played the part of the Loyal protagonist, the tragic hero.  But unlike the other characters I inherently understand the game, the plot, the orchestration, I understood when playing along was for the best, and waited for the time when refusal would serve me better.  I understood that at some point I had to step off the stage, stop being the pawn, or the king piece which ever I am seen as is your choosing, I have to turn the tables and take action.  It's the Slytherins who win wars and give the credit to the Gryffindors so that others don't learn their tactics.  It's the Slytherins who realize that by the time it comes to a battle someone has already lost, for that is far too public a place for negotiations.  They realize that it is not in the numbers that they kill in public but in the ones they bribe in private.  Because, Ladies and Gentalmen  It was Odysseus, not Achilles, who saved them all at Troy. " noticing the befuddled expression on the less educated membes of his 'audience' he expounded "If you were familiar with Homer you would understand. I allowed myself to appear as a 'gift from the gods' when inside I am far more than a statue.  Allow myself to truly be a Slytherin to get what I need to become the Director, just like the rest of you I donned a mask, but where your mask brought pain, suffering and destruction, with out any of the lessons that came with it I learned the true nature of my Mask is what brought me my victory."

Harry looked out into the frozen crowd and then leaned over and sat in Voldemort's lap, running a finger down his cheek.

"Tom, I know once you tried the similar tactic, but you weren't aware of the whole picture, in its lewed details and garish colours.  You were too innocent.  You didn't see how it all had to be done, too wrapped up in petty power, you didn't even understand that you were setting up the world for me.  Shame, you did have potential."  Harry got up and kissed the now seething Voldemort on the forehead like a mother would her child.  

"You once told me something very powerful, you told me that there was no good or evil only power, and those too week to seek it.  It's a shame that you were wrong.  For you had the basic premise backwards.  It is a child who sees black as evil and white as good.  It is a child that doesn't understand that a light spell can cause pain while a dark one can heal."  Harry waved his hand and had his audience howiling with pain as their head's seemed to split with a powerful burst of pure white magic, and then breathing a sigh of relief as it was banished with the Dark Arts.  "There is no black or white, but there is good an evil.  They are terms to qualify those who loose and those who win.  I shall win, and I shall live up to being 'good' while you shall all be painted 'evil'.  On a final note do you really think that Salazar was a deranged evil dark wizard?  I thought not.  No he was a grey wizard, as am I, He understood the play of nature, and he got in a fight when balances were being disrupted.  He lost.  Therefore the history painted him 'evil.'" Harry smirked. "What do you think Godric would have been known in history as if he had lost?  Now I wish you all a pleasant night, I shall come back in the morning to decide what to do with you all, safe in the knowledge that for once I can get a good night's sleep without worrying that anyone of you will do something stupid and try and kill another"   Harry lazily waved a hand and everyone was changed out of their battle equipment into pyjamas with fuzzy bunny slippers.  They each found a cot, blanket and a pillow had appeared in their 'cages' and that there were now facilities for showering and using the lou without leaving their individual cells. Hermione Granger said something about 'Geneva Convention Rules' and Harry nodded at her before he began to walk away from the battle field.  A place where none had fallen at the hands of another, and yet they all had.  The field was littered with cells, fortified by anti-magic barriers that even Dumbledore and Voldemort couldn't break. They resigned themselves to sleeping next to their enemies as they watched the young wizard, who had fooled them all, walk away in the sunset from the place they had to wonder what was going to happen with the dawning of a new day


End file.
